This is a effn’ good hot dog.”

My brother Dan is a geologist and he never swears.

We’re in an old building with salmon-colored walls. Dan plows through his third hot dog, smothered in relish, pickles and ketchup.

“Are they dotted? Hey! Are they dotted? Five, one, three!”

Yester-slingers shout in this thick Yester-brogue, barely audible over Casey Kasem’s American Top 40: The 70s. Coke and Quaker Oats spokeskids wink and pout from their rusty metallic signs. A girl, no more than eight, teeters back to her booth carrying a bottle of hot sauce and three bags of Cheese Curls.

Yesterdog is a place yanked out of time, from the days of the shoop-shoop soda jerks and pie holes, but it is living and breathing in 2009 East Town, Grand Rapids. A plaster sign next door points to an Ethiopian Restaurant, which is down the street from a hookah bar and a jazz club. And it’s a block over from a ribs joint, whose barbequey goodness you can smell all the way down Wealthy Street.

This restaurant exists without pretense in the beating heart of West Michigan—and it opens its screen door to everybody.

But is it just the franks swathed in sweaty chili and cheese? That’s just another Coney Island—Michigan’s east side is littered with Souvlakis and Leos claiming to serve up New York’s best. Why is it a watering hole for the digestibly insane? For that matter, really, why is it the place for anyone looking for a good hot dog?

Because food is culture. And culture is food. Everyone, everywhere is guzzling, shoveling, gnawing and slurping; right now, people are eating everything from blood sausages to seaweed salads. And the beauty of it, anybody with a stove and knife can mash, hash and serve food.

Especially artery-clogging “street food”, as dubbed by chef, TV-host and bad-ass foodie, Anthony Bourdain; this past season on his Travel Channel show, No Reservations, Bourdain filmed an episode entitled “Down on the Street”. In an hour-long montage of not-five stars, but carts, vendors, hole-in-the-walls and Iggy Pop, Bourdain explains that it’s these places, places like Yesterdog, that offer the best experiences and tastes.

Bourdain and chef buddy, David Chang, recently sat in on a Food and Wine panel in New York City. Bourdain reportedly asked Chang, "Is bacon less cool because Paula Deen likes it, or is it always cool, like Orson Welles?" Chang passed on explicating. But he did say that he “freakin’ hates cupcakes.” I’d say, from all of Bourdain’s serious pigging-outs on pork, he’s with Orson on this one.

These guys just use food as the serving platter. The main dish, the people they eat with. The things they learn at the dinner table or street stall. The jokes they tell and the stories they hear. That, dear friends, is culture.

And here at Yesterdog, it’s handed to us on a chilied-out bun.

Glenn Beck talks to a different audience.

Not the Washington talking heads or White House fanboys. Beck talks to the masses.

He communicates.

And he does it well. Theatrics aside, Beck understands that to effectively communicate, he’s got to speak to the audience. No corporate jargon, no DC media codswallop. Beck rolls up his sleeves and gets pissed, live at five. Hand-waving, fist-pounding pissed at the current political scene.

I told my mom he resembles a pig when he’s like that. The man actually turns piggy pink when he’s all hot and bothered.

But people understand that. They get pissed and they respond to it. Beck's blog is turning heads. Alright, granted, his Obama in shades display banner is kinda ridiculous. But read his stuff, you’ll see what I mean.

Communication, good communication, is key. Ask Glenn.

But Beck is a minority, according to Kristina Halvorson. As she explains it, most web writing out there is crap. She argues that web designers heave off responsibility of managing quality content to their client.

The worst part about that, no one grabs it up. And the readers are left with, well. Crap.

Halvorson defines a part of content management as content purpose, how well the text actually bridges the gap between writer and reader. Web sites with content that leave the reader going, huh?, is ineffective.

So, what makes it good? Good, attentive writers. Their writing is useful and purposeful. Most importantly, their writing keeps the reader in mind. They are effective content managers, information architects and metadata whowhatsits.

Enough with the web talk, that’s Lord of the Rings-elfin to me.

“But until we commit to treating content as a critical asset worthy of strategic planning and meaningful investment, we’ll continue to churn out worthless content in reaction to unmeasured requests,” writes Halvorson.

She couldn’t be more right. Trolling the net, I once went looking for The Shins’ band site. Clickable, blinking flowers took forever to load and their music player stopped and started like a stutter. And I couldn’t even freakin’ find the concert list.

Web techies, a talented bunch for sure, need to focus their efforts more on the good stuff.

It’s Common Sense. Just ask Glenn.

FOR IMMEDIATE RELEASE: June 24, 2009

CSSW Volunteer Receives State’s Highest Volunteer Award

On June 18, Catholic Social Services of Washtenaw County (CSSW) volunteer Bill Yaeger was named Michigan’s Senior Volunteer of the Year for his outstanding work for the agency’s Medicare/Medicaid Assistance program. Yaeger was presented the State’s highest honor for volunteerism by Governor Jennifer Granholm and First Gentleman Daniel Mulhern at a celebration held at the Governor’s residence.

For the past 22 years, he has been a volunteer for the RSVP program, putting up to 60 hours per week as a counselor for the CSSW Medicaid/Medicare Assistance and Tax Assistance programs.

“Bill represents the highest level of volunteering—bringing a depth of knowledge with unwavering compassion and commitment. He’s an exceptional human being and we are very lucky and proud that he works with Catholic Social Services,” said Jill Kind, Director of Older Adult Services.

The father and grandfather of 16, Yaeger resides in Ann Arbor with his wife Lenore and also volunteers for St. Thomas Church, Veterans Administration Hospital, Knights of Columbus and St. Vincent de Paul Society.

“People will miss the best part of their life if they don’t do volunteer work,” Yaeger said.

The Dine In, Pie Here neon flickered then died.

The janitor dipped and slopped his mop across the linoleum.

“Vinnie! Did ya get to the toilets yet?”

He reached for the bucket handle without a word and a book fell out of his pocket. Ernest Hemingway’s “For Whom the Bell Tolls” landed face-down on the floor; a liquor store receipt fluttered to my feet like a guideless bird landing. It was his bookmark.

I could take a break from my cherry pie a’ la mode, it was already starting to melty ooze under the kitchen lights.

“Here,” I said. The paper was back pocket sweaty.

He thanked me by scooting his oversized glasses up his nose.

“How is it?” Deb the waitress smacked; she just blew a pink bubble and it smacked her fat lips. She was pointing to my pie.

“Fine,” I nodded. A lukewarm smile, stale as the pies she served, and Deb turned to assert the—literally—wide birth of power she thought she possessed over Vinnie. She chuckled and her chins jiggled.

How disgusting. Johnny Cash the drug attic was too, but at least he could croon and play a guitar. “Walk the Line” gently rocked the Leo’s Diner walls. And it steadied my nerves. Not even diner coffee could do that

I so wanted to sleep but that meant closing my eyes. It meant seeing him, smelling him and tasting him. But I am too tired, so tired. He wasn’t wearing his glasses and his warm almond eyes smiled at me. D didn’t say a word, but he never had to. That, that right there, was enough to slow my always caffeine-streamed blood to a sluggish churn. My heart would nearly call it quits. Sounds like I’m dying? Not even close, I was one thousand feet above the clouds, peeling back the chocolately wrapper of the Milky Way and its stars. So sweet, I was with him and I was apart of him, body and soul. We were something cosmic.

The stars moved for us.

Now they just wink.

“Damnit, Vinnie! You couldn’t be any more stupid! Jesus Chris!” Deb’s batwing arms waved in the air. She slumped over the counter and pulled out a cigarette.

As she lit with her Betty Boop lighter, she asked, “You mind?”

“I’m allergic.”

“Oh.” She waddled five feet away and puffed a piggish puff.

Sorry ladies, but hot vampires will not be drawing your blood.

BioLife Plasma Services, located in Walker, Mich., collects and processes plasma to be used in life-saving, plasma-based therapies -- minus the fangs.

It can also be a way to earn extra cash, since BioLife pays eligible donors up to $305 a month. With the downturn of the economy rocking even the steadiest institutions, the company has given Grand Valley State University students a job opportunity when other businesses are experiencing cutbacks.

Giving blood also saves lives, said Patricia Matthews, of GVSU's biology department.

"Plasma is not in a short supply, since we all have about 10 units of it in our bodies," she said. "But it can be used to give better volume to someone who does not have enough volume or who needs any of the suspended materials."

Legally, because plasma is a water solution and not a function of an organ system, it can be sold.

"Payment encourages people to contribute, which helps to keep the volume of plasma in the health care system," she added.

For new donors, the entire plasma donation process, which includes an intake and physical exam, takes about two hours. Repeat donors can expect to spend approximately an hour and a half in the center, with the average process taking about 45 minutes.

But plasma donations extend beyond monetary compensation.

Nationwide, almost three million liters of plasma are collected every year through BioLife facilities, providing essential treatments for a variety of blood-related diseases and disorders.

The typical BioLife donor is young, and although specific percentages for the Walker location are not available, up to 60 percent are college students.

Donors have varying reasons for giving, including the self-fulfillment of knowing they are helping others and the opportunity to earn extra money, as well as the social aspects of donating.

And GVSU students are eager to do their part, evidenced by the numbers who currently contribute.

GVSU sophomore Betsy Hoisington is no exception.

"I chose to donate because it is a quick way to get cash," she said.

Unlike other substances, plasma cannot be artificially produced or simulated in a laboratory environment. It can only be obtained from healthy adults; and it is this most fundamental of contributions that literally saves lives every day of every year.

BioLife's Web site offers several examples of patients who have benefitted from the donations. One patient, who wishes to remain anonymous, suffers from Common Variable Immune Deficiency Disease.

"In my case, the treatment for (my disease) is gamma globulin infusions every 14 days," he wrote in a letter posted on the Web site. "Without this drug I would be sick all the time. My life is much better now that I receive infusions. I'm able to do whatever I want to do."

For more information, visit the BioLife Web site at http://www.biolifeplasma.com.

From the ashes rose heroes and patriots; from the destruction, hope and determination.

The terrorist attacks of Sept. 11 brought the U.S. to a standstill and left behind a tangle of shock and fear. American strength was tested, and unfamiliar fear tore through the nation. But the people stood firm.

The U.S. stood united even in loss.

In honor of the tragedy, Grand Valley State University will commemorate the 2,996 victims today with a reflective, day-long memorial service. Headed by GVSU's Student Senate, American flags will be erected between the Allendale and Pew campuses, each representing an individual and their respective nationality.

The Allendale Campus memorial will be held at the VanSteeland Arboretum. Flags are arranged around two Sept. 11 memorial trees -- each representing one of the World Trade Center towers. At 8:46 a.m., members of GVSU's brass ensemble will play a rendition of "Taps" as a tribute to the exact time the first plane crashed into the World Trade Center.

The service will allow each person to privately reflect on the loss, said Jeanine Anderson, Student Senate's vice president of Political Affairs.

"It's more of a personal thing," she said. "You can remember privately without having to listen to a speaker. It's real to people. You can walk around the Arboretum and look at the flags."

GVSU's Pew Campus will commemorate the Washington D.C. and Pennsylvania attacks. These American flags will be arranged to mirror the shape of the Pentagon; to its northwest, flags will be arranged into a star, representing the geographic location of the crash of Flight 93.

And similar to the Allendale Campus, "Taps" will play to honor the victims of the Pentagon and Pennsylvania crash sites at the specific times the planes touched down.

Today, GVSU students of all races and backgrounds will recall their experiences of Sept. 11. Many students were in junior high or high school, and the images and thoughts that came barreling through those adolescent minds still stick and resonate in their preconceptions of the world in which we live.

A member of the Student Senate Political Affairs Committee, Zachary Conley reflects on his middle-school perspective.

"When I first witnessed the attacks on the World Trade Center, I was a seventh grader in middle school," he said. "Then, I could not comprehend that something so terrible could happen to people in the U.S., that mass devastation was only an element of life for those in poverty stricken or unstable states."

Professor Joseph Jones of GVSU's History Department believes the current generation of students need guidance to form a better, more mature understanding of Sept. 11 attacks and the events that followed.

"(Students) see it through the lens of how they saw it when they were 10, 11 or 12, which is not as an adult, but as a child," he said. "(They) were probably told certain things because they were children. Because of that, they have trouble understanding what happened and why Sept. 11 happened. They have trouble understanding the American response."

Jones requires his students to read the 9/11 Commission Report as a part of his history class and thinks students need a more in-depth understanding of what happened on that day.

Seven years have come and gone, but the memory of Sept. 11 still holds strong in the American consciousness.

Today we stand united. Today, American hearts beat as one in remembrance of that day.